In Pieces
by marionette0191
Summary: Two broken people find each other. Set after the season 4 finale, so it's kinda spoilery. A good song to listen to while reading is In Pieces by Red.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N::** If she leaves, will he still remember her? I took a few liberties so I'm sorry if everything is not entirely accurate, I tried. Sorry it's a little choppy, it's supposed to span across about a year's time. A great song to listen to is Pieces by Red; it fits pretty well with what I wrote. Remember, I don't own them.

"Goodbye." She whispers as she leans over the hospital bed to kiss him. It was a simple gesture, a kiss on the forehead, but to her it felt like her heart was being pulled from her chest.

His eyes didn't even flutter. The doctors said that sleep was good for him, but she just wanted him to wake up. She had this irrational fear that he would fall back into a coma. All she needed was for him to look at her, talk to her, and be her Booth. But he was suffering from amnesia, and according to his doctor, there was no guarantee when memory would return, if it ever would.

As she slowly walked out of the cursed hospital room, the realization sank in. Within hours of her leaving his room, he wouldn't remember her. Booth wouldn't know who she was. She barely made it to the car before she started crying.

**********

Shortly after Booth's prognosis had come in, Cam ordered Brennan to talk Sweets. Sweets told her that Booth's situation would be very difficult for her to handle, and rightly so. She'd assured him that she'd compartmentalized before and she could do it again. But later that day, when it turned out that she couldn't, she went to Angela.

"I'm not kidding when I say this may kill you. Sweetie, I can't even bear to imagine what I would do if this happened to Hodgins."

"Yes, but you and Hodgins are in love."

"I know, and at least we got the chance to share how we felt about each other…" Angela trailed off, looking up at Brennan knowingly.

"I don't, I don't know what you mean." But by the way the anthropologist had tightened her jaw, Angela knew that Brennan did.

**********

Only forty-eight hours after Booth had woken from his coma, Brennan had decided that she had to leave him. Forever. It was the only way for both of them to continue with their lives. She didn't have to see him daily, get her heart broken daily. He didn't need the pressure to remember her; he was pressured enough by Parker and Rebecca. But she had to do a few things first. She couldn't simply walk out of his life; she was a part of every single piece of it. The least she could do is remove the things that would remind him of her.

Twenty minutes later she was walking into his apartment. All the times they'd shared came running at her. She was hit full force by the memories, and started choking in the air that smelled like him. His place was silent, all the rooms were dark, and she realized that the last time Booth was here, he still had all his memories. The messes in the kitchen, the piles of clothes on the floor, were made by a man who still knew who she was.

She made her way through his rooms, finding every picture of her and Booth, and gently placing them in her purse. In the Jeffersonian, at the diner, out to dinner with everybody. Each time she pocketed another snapshot, more tears began to fall. The more photographs she found, the harder she began to cry, and before long she couldn't hold them back anymore. Walking over to his couch, she sank into the leather and allowed the sobs to once again racket her chest. After a few minutes, she left his apartment, leaving tears on the floor as the only trace she ever existed in his life.

**********

The last thing she needed to do was secure Booth a job. Immediately she decided to talk to the Deputy Director of the FBI. She marched into his office and demanded that they discuss Booth's job situation.

"I'm not sure what we can offer him here." He sat behind his large desk, hands folded in front of him

"He is one of the greatest agents you have. He helped you apprehend more people than you can count. The least you can do is keep him employed!" Her voice was rising, but she didn't care who heard her.

"Dr. Brennan I'm just not sure what job we have for a man with no memory."

"You don't need you remember your past to live in the present." She said softly, sitting back down.

That was how Brennan got Booth a job behind the desk. He participated in the investigation, used the computer searches to find connections, he organized the cases, he helped people with their interrogation techniques, and he still went to the shooting range.

**********

Seeley Booth had suffered a trauma that deemed him fit for an evaluation by the FBI's psychiatrist. Dr. Lance Sweets was a scrawny, young person who Booth considered more of a friend than a doctor. At first they were supposed to meet daily, whenever Booth came in to work, but eight months had passed since the surgery and Booth insisted that he didn't need that much help anymore, so now they were required to meet twice a week.

For the first few visits, Sweets briefed Booth on what had happened. He only mentioned the people from Booth's past once, and when no recognition crossed his face, he decided to never bring it up again. Not because Booth didn't remember them, but because his friends had made it clear that they didn't want to force Booth to remember them unless he already did. Sweets thought it was admirable, that no matter how much it hurt them, none of Booth's friends wanted to hurt him or pressure him into remembering.

So most of the time Sweets talked to Booth about simple things. His new friends, his memory, his son. Booth met with his son every other weekend. He had very few memories about Parker but the pictures he had in his apartment helped. It was understood between the two that they would only talk about light subjects, that is until one day Booth came in looking more haggard than ever.

"I don't want to force to you talk about something that makes you uncomfortable, but I do want you to realize that it's sort of in my job description." Sweets offered a smile he hoped was welcoming.

"I always have these dreams about this, this woman. They're, um, sometimes they just seem too real, you know?" He couldn't make eye contact with Sweets, he was too distracted.

"Would it help if you told me about her?" It wasn't uncommon for people with amnesia to create vivid images of a companion to help them through lonely periods.

"She's," He paused before sitting on the couch. "I don't know where to start. She's beautiful." He glanced at Sweets before hunching over. "She's got light blue eyes and this shiny brown hair, shoulder length. She's a little shorter than me, but she holds herself like, like she's taller than I am. She's strong. You know. Physically and emotionally. I don't even think she's ever spoken to me, in a dream. She just smiles. And I _know _she's smart. Very, very smart. I just know it. I feel like I know her, but I can't get her out of my head. I dream about her, but I think about her too, a lot. And I don't even know her name."

There was a silence, so Booth looked up from his wringing hands. Sweet's mouth was parted slightly, his eyes opened only bit wider than usual, but they were shifting. Not many people would've noticed, but Booth knew the doctor was surprised about something. After only about a millisecond, Sweet's shock dissipated and was replaced with discomfort. He moved around in his chair, staring at his clipboard, as if debating something.

"You should try focusing your mind on other things." He said finally. "But not only on work, you should think about recreational activities too. Do you read a lot?"

"No," Booth hesitated, "I'm not exactly someone who chooses to sit and read in their free time."

"Well you should try it sometime," Sweets stood up and retrieved a book off the shelf behind his desk. "This is one of my personal favorites." He handed Booth the thick hardcover book and smiled, looking very pleased with himself.

Booth looked down at the cover, noticing immediately that it was a crime novel.

"Bred in the Bone by Doctor Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist." He read "I'll give it a shot."

**********

It only took Booth two days to read the book Sweets had given him. He enjoyed the puzzling cases and the intertwining stories, but the real reason he loved the book, was the because of the characters, and their intricate relationship.

He ended up buying and reading all of Dr. Temperance Brennan's novels. Endless nights of getting caught up in her stories, so excited to finish reading one that he can't seem to stop thinking about it. He even put up a special shelf in his apartment for all her books.

In late spring, he's finished all her books, and doesn't know what to do with himself. So he starts reading them over again, only this time he plans to go slower, so he'll pick up on little details he'd missed before. He grabs the first book; the one Sweets had given him, and drops onto his couch.

The book flips open to the dedication page. He absentmindedly reads the small font, and suddenly, he can't breathe. He reads it again, and again. That's his name. 'Partner and friend, Special Agent Seeley Booth.' It's not a common name, she must know him. He grabs a hold of his hurried thoughts, and realizes she must be from his past.

He frantically flips to the back cover, trying to find a photo that will refresh his memory. He thinks that maybe if he sees a picture, he could remember her. It's obvious they must've been close, for her to dedicate a whole book to him.

He finally finds the About the Author page. And there she is; the woman of his dreams, the woman _in_ his dreams. And he knows he has to see her.

**********

It was the picture of her that did it. Every time he looked at it, thought about her, he'd get little flashes. He wasn't sure if they were memories or dreams, some bordered on the insane, while others were fairly simple. One flash was of him throwing knives at her, while she was wearing a skimpy circus outfit and an eye patch. Next, they were sitting in chairs, a small circular table between them, and they were doing shots.

He shakes all the images out of his head, confused and nervous he keeps his eyes on the store signs. His feet keep padding over the sidewalk until he finds the shop he's looking for. One pause, a deep breath in, and he pushes open the door into the bookstore. A small bell jingles over his head and it takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. The room is large but cozy, filled with books and plush chairs. Except today, there's a mass of people huddled around a table in the back.

It's a lot of different types of people, but they're all clutching the same book. Temperance Brennan's new book, the one Booth had already purchased and read. He had brought it with him, hoping that it could be a conversation starter for them.

He stands in the back of the crowd, but the line moves quickly. He watches her, sign each book, make small talk with a stranger. She's got a broad grin on, but part of it seems a little fake, too practiced. She takes each fan's book, and methodically signs them. She seems a bit overwhelmed; one piece of hair keeps falling out of place no matter how many times she tries to put it back.

Suddenly he regrets his decision to come here. What if she hates him? Maybe that's why she didn't try to stay in touch. Maybe they fought over something, and she doesn't ever want to see him again. But no matter what happened, he knows he has to find the answer. There's something about her, the way she keeps reappearing in his thoughts when he least expects it. He thinks he might've loved this woman, but at this point he's too afraid to make any assumptions

He just wants answers. And as the line keeps moving, he realizes he's fourth in line, and he has no idea what to say. There's no one behind him in line, he's hung back until he's the last one left.

Finally he's the last person left, so he steps up to the table and slowly slides his book toward her. She readjusts the pen that's probably been in her hand for the better part of the day.

"Hello…" Her greeting fades out. Her muscles have gone stiff and she drags her eyes up to meet his.

"Hi." He doesn't smile, just gauges her reaction to his presence.

Within a few moments she regains her composure. Back to the cool professional, she cautiously signs her name on his book.

"Would you like me to write a message for someone?" Another detached smile.

"Sure, um, could you write, 'Your partner and friend, Special Agent Seeley Booth'?"

She watches him, wide-eyed and unmoving. He keeps talking.

"Look, I found the dedication. I, I just want to talk to you. Would you like to uh, well, do you have time to come out with me?"

"Like a date?" She knows he's lost and nervous, so she tries to joke around, but it falls flat as they both stare at each other.

"Yeah, how 'bout lunch and some coffee?" And there's his charm smile. He flashes the grin, but with his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes, blank and nervous, it's not the same.

"I know this great place, let me just grab my jacket." She keeps her eyes on him as she grabs her things and leads the way out the door.

He has the urge to place his hand on her lower back to guide her. He knows she's capable, but he feels surprisingly protective of her. As they walk down the street, he stares down every guy who tries to catch her eye.

She notices, and can't help but smile.

**********

"The Royal Diner." He says, nodding, looking around and appreciating the restaurant.

"Yeah," She's suspicious, curious about what he wants to talk about.

"I feel like I've been here before." He adds, halfheartedly.

She's thrown off by this, and the color in her face fades. He knows that she doesn't hate him, but he's not sure why she's acting so skittish. Either she's transparent, or he's just good at reading her. She knows him, she's obviously from his past, but she's pretending that they're nothing more than acquaintances. He doesn't understand why.

Throughout their entire two hour lunch, he can't bring himself to ask any questions about their history. He talks about his job, and she seems genuinely interested in it. She mentions her book tour and the interviews she has to do.

"You know someone once told me that when I do interviews, I should never mention that I don't want kids."

He laughs heartily, and spins his drink a bit, feeling like he was the one who said that.

They continue talking about bland, neutral subjects, and yet with her, they seem exciting and funny. She busts out laughing when he mentions his opinion of Sweets, his psychologist. There's an echo of misery in every story she tells. Every response he gets from her has got a sad undertone. He's afraid that bringing up the questions he wants to ask will bring out more sadness, and he knows just by looking at her face, that she's experienced more than her fair share of heartbreak in this lifetime.

Eventually they realize how much time has passed, and although neither really wants to leave, she's the one who insists she has to.

"Bye" Her voice is softer than her hands, as she reaches to shake his. He can tell the informality of it is killing her. Before he can ask to see her again, she turns and walks out the door with her head down.

"Bye," He says, to no one but the stale restaurant air. He stands rooted to the floor, by their table in the diner. It's in between lunch and dinner, so he's the only customer left.

"Bye," He says once more, only angrily this time. He drops money on their table, next to what Temperance had left, before he strides out the door.

**********

It was only about nine o'clock, but she was already in her pajamas. After their lunch, she'd gone to work, but had been too preoccupied to be productive, and so with some convincing from Angela, she'd gone home to try and straighten out her mind.

She sat curled up on her couch, listening to Poco, like she had every night since she left Booth. The song made her feel safe because she always thought of her father when she heard it, but now it reminded her of Booth as well.

As she lies there, staring out into the darkness of her apartment, she hears a knock on her door. She knows the knock, and it makes her heart stop. After a moment's hesitation she runs to the door and flings it open, without even looking through the eye-hole.

She sees Booth, only not the same Booth she knew. He's clearly distraught, disheveled. As she truly sizes him up for the first time in a year, she sees the differences. He's lost muscle mass and his wrinkles have grown more pronounced. His clothes are rumpled, his face drawn. He's leaning on the door frame staring right through her. He's broken, and it's all she can do not to cry for him.

"How do you know me?" His voice rasps out.

"Booth, how did you get here?" She avoids the question, tries to hold up the pretense that they no longer know each other.

"I don't, I don't know. I just drove." He looks at the floor, confused. He looks back up and meets her eyes. Channeling every emotion he's ever felt toward her, he asks once more.

"Please." It's more of a dry, expelled breath than a request. He needs her to let him in.

A few seconds pass as he watches her weigh the options. Her gaze rakes over him and she immediately reaches for his arm and gently guides him into her house.

**A/N:** Hellooo. Sorry for all the drama, this is the longest piece of fanfiction I've ever done, and it's un-beta'd. Reviews are loved! Please help me with some feedback, even constructive criticism! I would like to know what parts you liked and didn't like so I can work on my writing. Part Two/The Final Part will be up sometime next week depending on the kind of response there is to the story. Thanks for reading! (:


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, so now that I look at this I'm thinking it's a bit OOC but I'll let you guys decide. The story flops all over the place; I know that's one of the things I need to work on in order to improve my writing. So let me know what you think! And prepare yourself for the roller coaster ride that is Bones and Booth!

**********

She sets him up on the couch and he's grateful. As she walks to the kitchen he takes in her apartment. He feels oddly comfortable here, considering the assortment of creepy artifacts. He knows the layout, which means he must've been here before, which means that they must've been closer than just acquaintances.

"Keep on Trying by Poco, nice song!" He yells to her in the kitchen, as she's getting both of them waters. He tries to keep the mood light, after his heavy appearance at her door a few moments ago.

He watches her as she pads back into the living room. He watches the sway of her hips and the way her hair falls over her shoulders and realizes that even in flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, he was wildly attracted to her.

She sits across from him on a chair, drawing her legs up with her. Only a coffee table separates them but he feels like it's still too much. He studies her again; watching her cradle the mug of water with two hands and slowly take a sip before resting it on her knees. A silence settles over the room, so he decides to simply cut to the chase.

"How do you know me?" He asks again, calmer this time.

"Booth-" Her voice is resigned and she's not making eye contact. He doesn't want her to resist his questions so he cuts her off.

"I feel like I know you!" He protests. She watches him and once he knows that he has her attention, he plows on.

"I've read all your books and I saw this." He pulls out the book, flipping to the marked dedication page. "That's me. That's my name." He looks down and points at the words, as if still shocked to be reading it. "Was I an actual FBI _agent_!?! What happened? How do you know me?" It's all rushing out now and he can't seem to slow down his heart rate.

"Calm down Booth. I'll tell you, just, it's a long story."

"This book is dedicated to my partner and friend, Special Agent Seeley Booth." He recites it to her, without looking away from her eyes. He's committed the special sentence to memory, cherishing it. After reading it so many times looking for clues, he could rewrite her entire book, not just the dedication.

"You were my partner and my friend." She tells him, verifying the dedication.

"That's all." He states it, even though he meant it as more of a question. Booth turns his head and keeps watching her; unsure of what she could tell him.

"No, not at all." She's quieter now than at lunch, her eyes only meeting his briefly, every now and then.

"You trust me." He tilts his head to the other side. This time, he meant it as a statement rather than a question.

"I work at the Jeffersonian."

"I know, it's in your 'About the Author' page." He smiles gently, urging her to continue.

"Well, you were an FBI agent who needed help from the team on a lot of cases you worked on,"

She's starting out by stating basic facts. He gentle with her because he knows she's a rational person. Even in this situation, where the hardest of people might crumble, she still doesn't want to give away her emotions. She's guarded which means she probably had something traumatic happen in her past, or maybe her past was just traumatic in general.

"You called us the squint squad." He looked confused as she continued. "Because you said, we, science-types squinted at things. We inspected every detail very carefully, and I think it bothered you."

"I noticed, it feels kind of like you're squinting at me, like I'm a little bone on your analyzing table,"

She laughs lightly. "I don't mean to intimidate you. It's just how I see people."

She kept talking for hours and hours until the only light was coming from the weak lamp on the end table. She told him how each of them had been kidnapped, on separate occasions. She talked about the many times they've gone undercover, and all the crazy people they'd met. She even spoke of all the times their lives had been in danger. She explained about her family, how her father had reappeared a few years back, how her mother had died and how her brother Russ had his own family now.

"So you're the daughter of Max and Ruth Keenan. The criminals." He sat dumbfounded, that all this had happened to her, alone.

"I go by Temperance Brennan." Her voice was flat and her jaw pronounced and yet with Booth, she softened. She relaxed her shoulders and back and in a quieter voice said, "But you, only you called me 'Bones."

"You know that fits, because I don't really see you as a 'Temperance." He matches her sad smile with one of his own as a comfortable silence fills the air.

"You know, it's actually not my birth name."

His eyes flicker and for some reason, he thinks he knows what her real name is.

"Joy," he whispers.

Suddenly, Brennan can't breathe. She wants to scream and jump and cry and laugh all at once, but she stays curled up in the chair, watching Booth as he sits on her couch wringing his hands.

**********

"Wait, you _blackmailed _me? So I would let you come into the field with me? You blackmailed a federal agent!"

She laughs at his astonishment because she knows that without her stubbornness and persistence to work with him, they never would've gotten to know each other.

"Okay, well I have a question for you Bones."

"Ask away," She says with a sweeping gesture with her hand.

"Are you Kathy? And am I Andy?"

"What? No Booth, those are fictional characters from my books."

He smirks at her answer, her obviously practiced excuse. Whether she realizes it or not, he knows that he's Andy and that she's Kathy.

"Alright, alright, but I have another question."

"Okay," she sighs curiously.

"Why do I have the urge to call you 'Roxie?"

And that simple question is the thing that sends her over the edge. She suddenly feels goosebumps spreading up her back and over her arms. She shivers, and the shake causes her to spill the lukewarm coffee that she was clutching on her lap.

"Bones!" He jumps up and follows her as she rushes into the kitchen.

"You shouldn't remember, Booth. It's been a year!" She's hunched over using a sponge to scrub the stain out of her pajama bottoms. He's so silent that is causes her to pause to look up at him.

He's standing leaning against her counter looking confused. She watches him think, studies his contorted face as he obviously is recalling a memory and suddenly he's back, only this time with the knowledge of who Roxie is. He looks ashamed and so she finds a calmer voice and asks, "Hey, do you want to order takeout?"

"Why do I feel like we've done this before?" he asks. They share crooked smiles before he returns to the couch.

As she rummages through the kitchen drawer to find the number for the restaurant, she smiles again to herself. They're back, just like it's always been. They're able to go from 0-60 in seconds, only this time she's reassuring him instead of the other way around.

She dials the number and listens to the phone ring while leaning on the doorframe, absorbing the image of him on her couch. He sits with a stack of her CDs on his lap with one arm rifling through the pile and the other stretched across the back of the sofa. He looks comfortable, and in her mind he looks like he belongs there.

After she places their order she goes back into the living room, only to find Booth turning up the volume on a CD he just put in.

"What album did you-" But she's cut off by the guitar and drums as the music answers for itself.

"Foreigner!" He yells, as he starts bobbing his head and singing the lyrics.

"We should probably lower the music before my neighbors complain!" She yells back. Her words are contradicted by the fact that she's smiling and dancing right along next to Booth.

"Aw c'mon Bones you missed your cue!"

"What cue?"

"Right there! You were supposed to kick your leg again, like last time!" He teases.

The fact that he remembered something else sends a jolt of energy through her. She starts jumping to the beat and singing louder. She dances over to Booth as he plays air-guitar and she adjusts herself so they're dancing back to back. Even though the song is on repeat, neither of the two loses their enthusiasm.

After what feels like only a few minutes, the doorbell rings with their food so Booth lowers the music but Brennan keeps on dancing. She sways over and opens the door, taking the food and paying the delivery man without stopping dancing.

She takes the food in one hand and starts swaying back over to Booth. He's sitting on the couch and laughing at her wiggling. The music is off and the quiet air starts to smother the apartment. His loving gaze is matched by her unsure one, but then she breaks the electric trance and starts to serve up their food.

**********

They finished eating their takeout over an hour ago, but there always seemed to be an excuse for him to stay just a little bit longer. He keeps asking her simple questions that she answers with some hesitation. They're sitting side by side on her couch and the closeness is affecting her, so she picks at her food as a distraction.

She had showed Booth the Brainy smurf and Jasper. The little toys he gave her seem familiar to him, but he doesn't mention it.

While they're talking he nudges her playfully and she laughs, a 100-watt smile spreading across her face. The silence that follows is comfortable, but the look he gives her isn't. She always had a feeling that Booth liked her, but the way he stares at her now leaves no doubt in her mind. It's as if the coma erased all the hesitance in his mind, his coma erased his 'line', the one he told her partners can't cross.

She moves so her head is resting on his shoulder, her hair falls in her face but he brushes it away.

"Did we used to do this when we were partners?" He croaks out

"Never," She laughs sadly. "But we were the best partners; we closed a lot of cases together."

But what she says makes him tense up; she can feel it without even looking at him.

"Booth?-" He stands up suddenly and she's confused.

"What did I do you?" He whirls around and asks her. It's not angry, but it's not gentle. He's distraught and he finally needs answers after more than a year of living without any.

"Nothing, Booth!" She recognizes his fear of hurting her.

"Then why did you leave?!"

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. The reason she left, was selfish, and she can't bring herself to admit this to the most selfless person she knows.

"Why weren't you there when I didn't remember anyone? I mean, from what I can remember about us Bones, I can't think of any fights."

"_Remember?!_ What do you remember?" She's standing now, stepping closer to him in her uncontrollable bewilderment.

"Enough." He stands too, convincingly crossing his arms.

"What do you remember about us Booth?!" She asks again.

"Did you love me?" And now he shocks her again, for the hundredth time today.

"Wha-" She's breathing heavily and can't seem to grasp his sudden change of topic.

"I loved you, Bones. I still do. I'm the same person I've always been."

"I… I uh," She tries to look everywhere in the room but at his face.

Her hands are on her hips but her arms are hanging loosely. He wants to touch her, console her, even though he's the source of her distress. Instead he turns his palms toward her, pleadingly.

"I know you." He starts again. "And I know that you're not selfish, that you care about me! So then why would you leave? And then I realized that if I didn't remember you, it would hurt. Both of us. And instead of spending everyday trying to get me to remember, you removed the cause of pain. Except for this past year I've felt like I was missing something, something more than just my memory."

"And despite everything, you remember." Her voice sounds as watery as her eyes are and her eyebrows are peaked toward each other. Her jaw is clenched shut and her breath is rushing through her nose.

"Bones." He feels guilty and starts toward her. What is she to do when the one who comforts her pain starts causing it?

"No I need to think. It's too much. I- I'm sorry." And she quickly goes to her bedroom and shuts the door without another word.

Booth sways on the living room, stunned at the way the night flipped. After a few seconds he falls onto the couch with his elbows on his knees and his hands on the back of his head.

The gentle click of a door opening surprises him, and his head springs up to see her padding across the floor.

"I'm sorry I was just leaving." He stutters as he gets off the couch.

"No, Booth you should stay. It's late." She sounds tired but as she hands him some blankets and pillow he notices something new. She's looking at him differently, but he can't figure out what.

"Goodnight," She whispers with a smile before turning back to go to bed.

"Night, Bones.

**********

The next morning he wakes up on her couch, his side cold without her. The night before is pushed into the back of his mind and now he's intent on starting over with her. If he can't be with her, he'll settle for staying near her.

He looks over and sees her bending over rummaging through the refrigerator, her flannel clad legs poking out behind the fridge door.

"Hey sorry I didn't mean to wake you up." Her muffled voice floats over to him as he walks across the cold floor.

"What do you want for breakfast?" She asks.

"Well Bones, I know that you don't eat meat so I guess bacon is out of the question."

She stands up with a rigid spine, to find him next to the fridge with a half smile on his face. She stammers, shocked that he actually does remember all these things. It was shocking to her, that after spending a year of trying to convince herself that he would never remember, he surprises her, yet again.

"It comes back, the memories," he explained. "In pieces, mostly in dreams. Or when I'm talking to you I'll get flashes of stuff." He offers another sheepish smile and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Oh," Her voice is high pitched, and cracks on that one word. She's got her eyebrows raised again but this time she's smiling. She smiles because now she knows that maybe, it was wrong to leave him, if being with her just makes him remember.

Her hands fall limply at her sides and suddenly he knows what she's about to do. Before he can lift his arms, she's hugging him. She's a lot stronger than she looks, but somehow he already knows that.

Two broken people find each other. They use their pieces to fit together a puzzle that was bigger than either one of them. Maybe things would be okay. Because now they weren't partners and there were no restrictions, no barriers. So maybe this was their second chance. They had fallen for each other a long time ago, but maybe now was their time to be together.

**A/N::** Review, review, review s'il vous plaît!! This is the longest work of fanfiction I've done yet, and it's un-beta'd… again, sorry for any errors. Let me know the bits of what you liked and didn't like! Feedback is adored! Love, M


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